A poem by Emily Brontë (1818-1848)

 

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The Night is Darkening Around Me

 

 

    The night is darkening round me,
    The wild winds coldly blow ;
    But a tyrant spell has bound me,
    And I cannot, cannot go.

    The giant trees are bending
    Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
    The storm is fast descending,
    And yet I cannot go.

    Clouds beyond clouds above me,
    Wastes beyond wastes below;
    But nothing drear can move me:
    I will not, cannot go.

 

 

More information on Emily Bronte

 





Poetry by Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 254 times
Written on 2023-07-03 at 05:19

Tags English  Gondal 

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I went to comment on this yesterday, miskeyed and didn't have the time to repeat myself: Today I see comments that largely wipe away my yeterday thinking. However, it is true that the rhythm and flow is quite typical of the period; Maybe even predictable. I've thought this about many poems of the same era, sometimes they are astoundingly good and other times ... just poems. I regret this doesnt' do much for me except please my ear - much like a greetings card. I know! I'm a heathen! Each to his own.
Blessings, Allen
2023-07-04


Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
For its time, Bronte's lyricism was spare and not without strength. Economical.
2023-07-03


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I've eaten a great deal of fiber.
It tastes pretty awful, you know,
And been squatting here for an hour,
But, still, I'm unable to go.
2023-07-03